


Rain

by Saratonin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Greg can't believe his luck, M/M, Mycroft IS the British Government, Mycroft wishes the world would fix itself, POV Third Person, Rain, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 19:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12488756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saratonin/pseuds/Saratonin
Summary: The rain won't ruin Greg's night.





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd or brit-picked. All errors are mine.

Greg walked from the door to the car that was waiting. He was hunched over trying to not be pelted by the rain. When he got into the car he looked over and smiled brightly at the person waiting.

“A quality umbrella is invaluable, Gregory,” Mycroft intoned not for the first time. He leaned over and gave the detective a brief but tender kiss on the cheek before returning to his phone. “Please pardon the rudeness, but I have one complication that wasn’t as solved as I had previously thought.”

“It’s fine, it’s been a long day, I wouldn’t mind the quiet.”

Greg watched the rain hit the Thames as they made their way south from NSY and then west on their way to Kensington.

As they drove past Buckingham Palace he realized how weird it is to him that it’s no longer weird that this is his life. He looked at his partner sitting a foot away engrossed in his work. Greg may have gone through a failed marriage that dragged on for far too long, but he felt lucky to have ended up with Mycroft. _Mycroft bloody Holmes shares your bed_. Greg started smiling, barely holding in his giggle.

“I see the rain didn’t dampen your mood,” Mycroft said not looking up at him.

“I think, rather, that you’ve improved it,” Greg answered.

“How so?”

“By being you.”

Instead of a cold, clipped response that one might expect from the British Government, Mycroft looked up at Greg and revealed a warm beaming grin. Mycroft’s gaze dropped to his mouth and the two of them leaned into the center of the back seat.

The kiss was slow and sweet. The younger gentleman dropped his phone, forgetting his work. He placed both hands in Greg’s silver hair, knotting his fingers and slowly squeezing. It wasn’t tight enough to cause pain, just enough to convey the depth of love that Mycroft felt. Greg hugged Mycroft close and deepened the kiss.

Mycroft’s phone buzzed in his lap effectively killing the mood when Mycroft remembered the minor crisis he’d been fixing. Before he picked up the phone he looked at his partner and silently promised that these activities would continue as soon as this annoyance was dealt with. Greg threw him an understanding nod.

They pulled up to their building and Mycroft got out first. He opened his umbrella and held Greg close as they made their way to the overhang. When they entered their home Greg made his way to the study while Mycroft went to work in his office. Greg poured two scotches and started a small fire. The large windows provided a somewhat musical background of rain dropping on the glass panes. He sat and enjoyed the quiet and warmth that his home provided. About halfway through his drink he heard a noise and looked up. There, leaning on the doorway, watching him, stood his partner.

Mycroft looked at the love of his life and felt so many things. But the word that he loved most and relayed everything he needed to express was all he could bring himself to say.

“Gregory.”

“Love.”


End file.
